


Masquerade at midnight

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Series: Vampire Wicca AU [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Clothing Kink, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Tenderness, Vampire Sex, non-turning bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Set in Invite Me In universe, a year later*Vampire King Harrow has been away from the Council and joint castle for two weeks, and away from High Warlock Viren.They welcome each other back with passion.





	Masquerade at midnight

**Author's Note:**

> for anon! Thank you for such a lovely commission, I really enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> this is the same high fantasy universe as Invite Me In (which is in the works, I will have it up before the new year!) you don't need to read it, this does stand alone. 
> 
> basically a universe where as well as elves, dragons, and humans, there are Wicca (like a humanized elf) Vampires, and werewolves too! The main cast is divided between the three new races, Harrow as the Vampire King, Viren and Opeli as head Warlock and head Witch of the Grand Coven, Amaya and Corvus both werewolves, ect.

* * *

* * *

Although the masquerade was in fully swing, laughter rising above the hot-bodies crowds, the sound of bare and shoed feet a constant rhythm under it all, Harrow found he was restless. Bored, really. He swirled the contents of his glass, and idly watched the gold liquid release a burst of bubbles.

_Where is the little witch?_ He wondered, cast across the swaying mass of jewelled and decorated bodies swaying in a time with the heartbeat of the music. This spectacular display of indulgence would usually have him at the centre, eating and making merry. But It had been a fortnight since he had last laid eyes on his little witch, and knowing that he would be here was making Harrow impatient.

He cast around the room again, searching for the familiar robes.

_Wait, that isn’t—_

A tall figure, lean, dressed in black stood at the far side of the room. Harrow had initially dismissed them for a woman, perhaps one of the werewolves, but they had turned and a familiar tattoo had caught his eyes. _Viren_? Harrow turned towards him, eyes wide.

The dress didn’t cling, but it also didn’t hide much. Backless, with a high collar rising like a wide barred cage to shield his neck while giving a tantalising view of all his milky skin. There was an _attempt_, at modesty, a solid piece of fabric that covered his nipples and stomach before pooling into a long, trailing skirt that puddled elegantly on the floor around his feet.

Harrow was struck with the conflicting urges to sweep over to him, and cover his lover with his own cloak- but also to tug him away into a shadowy corner, and slide his hands through the gaps over Viren’s hips. Maybe see if that delicate collar could be removed with his teeth.

Without making a solid decision between the two impulses, Harrow set his cup down on the tray of a nearby server, and returned to the crowded dance floor. He waved off request and offers alike, with a polite smile, and a careful lack of fangs, but his nails sharpened at each interruption.

_Calm yourself_, he thought strictly, _he has only just arrived. _

The crowd parted, and Harrow stepped out into the cool air of the balcony door. Viren stood not far away, his staff switched out for a thin black cane, with delicate filigree that mimicked his lattice-like bodice. Harrow could tell when Viren spotted him; the warlock stopped speaking, ignoring his companion’s queries, and stood straighter, gaze intent on Harrow. 

Harrow could feel his eyes turn gold, the way his primal form pushed against his skin. Viren turned fully toward him, and held out a hand, palm up.

“Harrow,” he greeted softly, the heat in his voice matching the heated way his eyes dragged up Harrow’s figure. “You look well.”

Harrow stepped onto the balcony, cupping Viren’s hand with his own, and lifting it to his lips to kiss his palm. He could feel him shiver, hear as his heart sped up under Harrow’s burning gaze.

“As do you, little witch. A very lovely dress you have on.” Harrow purred, laying a second kiss to the inside of the warlock’s wrist. Viren coloured, as he had anticipated, but they had played this game for many years, and Harrow had no doubt about Viren’s willingness to play his part.

The warlock reclaimed his hand, shoulders stiffening. “It is a _robe_, Harrow.” He corrected, but the bite was out of his words, and his face has a pinkness to it that Harrow doubted was from the wine.

He licked his lips, hunger simmering slow in his belly.

“Call it what you wish, it is very _flattering_ on you.” Harrow reached for Viren, and Viren seamlessly stepped into him, meeting the motion half way.

They were not quite of a height; Harrow arched a brow.

“Barefoot?”

In answer Viren held his leg out, so the material draped down his strong thigh, and hung in a cascade to frame his bare toes. Harrow shook his head with a fond smile. “Allow me to offer you an arm, so you do not trip on that splendid hem of yours.”

He tucked Viren’s hand into his elbow, enjoying having to bend his head to gaze at the Wicca’s grey eyes.

He escorted Viren away from his conversation partner without a word, but did catch Opeli rolling her eyes at them from her seat at the mostly abandoned dining tables. Harrow tipped his head to her, and she flipped him off.

It had been a long, lonely two weeks, and regardless of the judgement of his peers, King Harrow intended to _fully_ enjoy his mate this evening.

Braziers burned just beyond the doorway, chasing the cold nigh away for a handful of spots. Harrow gently steered Viren to the one tucked against the castle wall, out of view from the dazzling party within. It had a thick rug at its base, the brazier hanging off a hook on the wall. Despite the short distance, Viren was shivering when they reached the circle of warmth.

Harrow stepped behind him, tugging Viren back against his body, and pressed a kiss to the edge of his shoulder.

“A lovely, impractical choice,” he murmured against his skin, hands stroking the exposed pieces of Viren’s front slowly, spreading his warmth to the Warlock’s skin. Viren covered one of Harrow’s hands with his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss his fingers.

“I thought you would like it,” said Viren, the edges of breathless anticipation in his voice. Harrow groaned softly against his skin, and dared to scrap his teeth across the back of Viren’s neck, kissing his spine.

“What a interesting neckline, should I be reading into it?” they fell into their roles, banter easy and familiar. Viren squirmed against Harrow’s body, pushing into his touch as the Vampire stroked down the open sides, following the curving lines of the dressed structure. It was less of a fabric top, and more of fabric added over smooth black metal lattice, just enough for modesty. He traced the open pattern as it curled down and under Viren’s pec. His ribs and the side of his stomach was exposed, leaving holes to his bare, goosebump covered skin. Harrow slid his hand inside the part.

“Are you cold?” Viren’s barefeet put him an inch lower then Harrow’s heeled boots, and Harrow was able to comfortably tuck his face against Viren’s hair, press his lips against the soft skin behind his ear.

“You could always warm me up.” Suggested Viren slyly. 

Harrow chuckled, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “_Naughty little witch_.” Harrow’s hand crept lower, stroking Viren’s belly under his bodice. The tips of his fingers brushed against wirey pubic hair without touching cloth, and Harrow arched his brow.

“You have nothing on underneath?” He asked, torn between surprise and a hard spike of lust. His tight black court pants were starting to feel almost unbearably tight now.

Viren cast him a sly look.

_Little minx_, Harrow thought, pressing his lips to the thin line of skin above Viren’s collar. He gave into the urge, and licked it, tasting his sweat, and his lust.

“How to I take this cursed collar off you?” he growled, voice edging into the husky two-tones as his magic pushed up against his control. Harrow’s hands already had a duskiness to them, an unnatural darkening that was his own vampiric form straining against his control. This lovely warlock always made control hard for him. Harrow let his hand sliding teasingly along Viren’s skin, enjoying the way he shivered under his touch, the smell of arousal strengthening.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked softly, when Viren gave him no answer.

The warlock nodded hastily, seeming shaken from his thoughts- he reached up to his own neck, and tugged the collar forward, until the dress slipped off his shoulders. It sagged slightly, but the frame of the top caught before it slid too far. Harrow placed several kisses along the newly exposed skin, then stopped with his mouth pressed against the side of Viren’s throat, teeth scraping across his skin. Harrow threaded his hand in Viren’s hair, stroking the thick brown strands. His little witch was nearly vibrating with anticipation.

He held him, hand on his stomach, head pulled carefully to the side to expose his lovely throat, and sank his teeth into that flutter.

Their groans twinned, low and heartfelt as warm blood filled his mouth, and even warmer pleasure spread through Viren’s veins. Harrow held him close, soaking in his soft gasps and breathless noises of pleasure. He remained as beautifully responsive to the bite as he had always been, nearing climax simply from having Harrow’s teeth in his flesh; Harrow closed his eyes, groaning low in appreciation.

_How I intend to bring this sweet song from him many more times this night,_ Harrow swore silently, and reached low to grasp Viren’s cock. It was hard, flushed hot and leaking against his palm as he stroked the head, listening for the pound of his heart and the whining edge to his moans that would signal he was close.

The heavy fabric tented, showing as much as it concealed with Harrow’s hand under Viren’s dress. He stroked the wicca teasingly, holding him on the gasping edge as he pulled his teeth from his skin, licking across the bite to catch the crimson droplets that welled up.

“Your dress—” Harrow started, voice roughened with his fangs exptended.

“Don’t worry about the dress,” Viren reached over his shoulder to wind his fingers in Harrow’s hair, pressing his hips into his hand. “I want to feel you,” he bit his lip on a moan as Harrow’s hand tightened, pace speeding up. Viren clung to him, hands in his hair, and twisted in the lush silk of his red masquerade shirt.

Harrow’s understated attire had made it so much easier for Viren to spot him, and slip away from his conversation to take off the silk hose he’d been wearing when he arrived. It had been balled in his hand as he’d watched Harrow cross the floor towards him, splendid in an pair of gold buckled boots, and snug black pants, his hair half caught up in a ribbon that matched the blood red of his shirt. The low V of it’s neckline left very little to the imagination. 

With Harrow pressed so close to his bare back, Viren could feel the Vampire King’s warm skin, could almost imagine running his tongue across his pecs. Filling his mouth with him…

He leaned back into him, eyes closed to soak up all the sensations of _finally_ having Harrow’s hands on his skin, after so much time apart.

His sword callouses were rough against Viren’s cock, lighting his nerves on fire. It was just wet enough not to be too dry, his own excitement smoothing Harrow’s strokes. Those tight black pants were tented, Harrow’s clothed cock pressed snuggly against Viren’s skirts.

If it had been later, and the other guests drunker, Viren would be tempted to drop his skirts, beg Harrow to take him there, to warm his skin with his own under the light of the half moon. This was no more then a finger in the crack of a dam, holding back all of Viren’s desire until they could reach a more appropriate place.

“F-faster, harrow, faster,” Viren gasped, tightening his hands to keep Harrow’s face close to his. The Vampire was watching over his shoulder, he could feel the intensity of his gaze. Watching the silk shiver with each stroke, eyes devouring the shape of Viren’s desire as it was pressed against the shining fabric, an indecent shroud that accentuated rather then disguised.

His breath was coming short now, and he could feel Harrow’s fast breaths. Viren struggled to untangle his fingers from Harrow’s sleeve, reaching behind his hips to catch his belt awkwardly.

“Want to feel you,” He explained roughly, when Harrow’s pace stuttered.

The Vampire _growled_, and he pressed tight against Viren, pushing his cock against the swell of his ass. Harrow ground against him in rough time to his strokes, burying his face in the side of Viren’s neck with a soft oath.

He could feel the way the silk stroked Viren’s bare ass, each of his thrusts pushing it between them, rubbing his skin with it. He increased his pace, locked together by their twined arms. Viren was close; he could smell it, _hear_ it in his voice. No longer smothering his pleasure, pushing his hips into Harrow’s hand- Harrow tugged Viren’s hips backwards, bending him forward until he was forced to widen his stance, soft _oh’_s of pleasure fluttering like wingbeats in the air.

His little witch stiffened, tugging hard on Harrow’s hair, and arched his back with a cry neither of them muffled, painting Harrow’s hand with hot cum.

The soft breathless groan that he made as Harrow stroked him through it, pulling his ass tight to Harrow’s crotch, was enough.

Harrow sank his teeth into Viren’s shoulder to muffle the noise of his own pleasure, as he came in his tight pants, and Viren sagged in his arms; the warlock was nearly limp, pushed over the edge again by the second bite. Harrow lowered them slowly onto the pillows, not ready to pull his teeth from his lover.

Viren’s breath made steam in the cold night, but his body was warm, pressed up against Harrow’s from shoulder to ankle. Harrow gently released the bite, rubbing slow circles over Viren’s belly as he panted.

“I missed you,” he confessed softly. _Not just the sex_.

Viren slumped down in Harrow’s arms, draped across his lap in a relaxed sprawl. In the moonlight, his grey eyes looked almost lavender, regarding him with a warmth that soothed so many things within Harrow. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and swollen from biting them to stop his noises. Harrow brushed his thumb over them, as Viren cupped his jaw.

“I think we should retire from the party,” he suggested, stroking along Harrow’s beard. “we can make excuses for our absence tomorrow.”

Harrow caught his hand, kissing his fingertips. “Not a soul will believe us.”

A relaxed, warm smile from the warlock. “Not if they’re smart.”

Oh, how he missed this. That he had stubbornly resisted his own wants for so many years, determined to cast Harrow in the role of a villainous rouge, out to seduce and then abandon him. Viren had rarely felt as sure as he did now, when he looked at Harrow with so much tenderness in his eyes, and knew this man would never leave him. he sat up, and kissed those tempting lips, eyes sliding closed as everything that had felt so off these last weeks slide quietly back into place.

“Come, my love. Take me to bed.”

A rumbling, pleased growl from his vampire.

“As you command.”

He laughed as he was swept up in Harrow’s arms, the party forgotten behind them. 


End file.
